Here Be Dragons - 1 by Sharon Penman (best inspirational books txt) 📕

change in atmosphere, the sudden chill. Llewelyn's eyes grew guarded, gave away nothing of his thoughts, at once remote and utterly aloof. Davydd looked no less distant. Elen, too, had tensed. Gilbert hastened into the breach, said sharply, "Nell, you have no right"Nell refused to retreat. "Yes, I do. Who will speak for my sister if I do not?Llewelyn, it has been more than five months now. How much longer do you mean to hold Joanna at Llanfaes?"Nell was the first one to put that question to Llewelyn; until now, no one else had dared. It may have been the challenging thrust of her query, as if he had to defend what he'd done. It may have been that he was unaccustomed to being interrogated by a fourteen-year-old girl. Or that he had no answer for her. But whatever the reasons, the result was a sudden flare of anger, intense enough to prevail over the constraints of courtesy, and he said curtly, "As long as I choose."No one spoke. Nell flushed, lost some of her aplomb, showed herself vulnerable, after all, to the insecurities and misgivings of adolescence."I'll . . . I'll go and see to Isabella now," she said, sounding so subdued that Elen, too, excused herself, followed Nell from the hall.They walked in silence for some moments. Nell at last gave Elen a look that was both apologetic and embarrassed. "I did not help Joanna much, did I?""No," Elen said tartly. "For certes, you did not."

663"I meant well, truly I did," Nell said, and sighed. "Henry says I'm too forthright for my own good. I suspect that's a polite way of saying I talk too much. But Elen, do you not think it strange that your father has n0t yet divorced Joanna?""Yes," Elen admitted, and she, too, sighed. "Yes ... I do."ELEN had persuaded her husband to come back to Wales for Llewelyn's Christmas court at Aber. She understood the political considerations behind Llewelyn's choice; he could not let his subjects think him reluctant to return to his chief residence. But it was a political decision undertaken at great personal cost; never had Elen seen her father look so haggard, so bone-weary, so suddenly aged. Aber's atmosphere was proving oppressive to them all. An aura of gloom overhung the court, and the Christmas revelries were muted, lacking spontaneity or any genuine sense of joy.Elen was standing with her husband John, and with Gwladys and Ralph deMortimer, for Gwladys, too, had felt the need to be with her father on this particular Christmas Eve. As Elen watched, Isabella bade Davydd good night and made an unheralded, unnoticed departure from the hall. "That poor little lass," she said sadly, unconsciously echoing Joanna's prophetic judgment. As difficult as it was for Papa and Davydd to be back at Aber, might it not be hardest of all upon Will's daughter? "That child flits about like a wraith, does not even seem to cast a shadow. John, what say you we have her with us for a time?""Another bird with a broken wing, Elen?" John's smile was indulgent. "Mayhap in the spring," he temporized. But then Isabella was forgotten. A few feet away a woman in blue velvet was holding forth to a small but attentive audience; John recognized her as the Lady Gwenllian, wife to Ednyved. She had a loud, carrying voice, a distinctive laugh, and her words came clearly now toJohn's ear, words of venomous contempt, words that brought a rush of hot color into his wife's fece, and he said hastily, "Let it lie, Elen. You do not want to cause a scene.""No? Just watch me." Elen evaded his restraining hand, pushed her way through those encircling Gwenllian. An embarrassed silence fell at Slght of her; few had realized she was within hearing range. Even Gwenllian was slightly discomfited, but too proud to show it. She smiled archly, said, "Lady Elen?"and Elen very deliberately tilted her ^ne cup, poured the contents ontoGwenllian's velvet gown.Gwenllian screamed loudly enough to turn heads, stared at her ^ine-stained skirt as if she could not believe the evidence of her own

664eyes. Shock gave way almost at once to outrage, and she cried, "You'Ve ruined my gown, you spoiled, willful"Gwenllian choked off further utterance so abruptly that Elen knew there could be but one reason why, and she turned, found Llewelyn was close enough to touch. She felt no surprise that he should have materialized with a suddenness that a sorcerer might envy; she was all to0 familiar with his uncanny sense of timing. He took in the situation at a glance, said without emotion, "How careless of you, Elen."Gwenllian opened her mouth, closed it again. She saw her husband standing at the edge of the crowd, but he did not contradict Llewelyn; his face was impassive, and Gwenllian yearned to rake her nails across that dark, weathered skin, to damn Elen as she deserved, to spit and scratch and call down the wrath of the Almighty upon the lot of them. She did nothing, though, for greater than her fury was her fear of public humiliation. She bit down until her jaw muscles ached, until she could trust herself to say, "No matter. Who amongst us has never spilled a little wine?" She even managed a grimacing smile of sorts, but dared not let her eyes meet Elen's. Or Ednyved's. She'd saved face. But she would not forget, would not forgive."Elen." Llewelyn's voice was very low. As people drifted away, began to disperse, his hand closed on Elen's wrist. "I would talk with you," he said, and Elen could gauge the full extent of his anger by the unremitting pressure of those hard, bruising fingers. She followed him to a far corner of the hall, with Ednyved but a step behind. "Well?" Llewelyn said coldly. "You do owe me an explanation.""I think I'm entitled to one, too," Ednyved interjected, no less coldly."I could not help it, Papa. She . . . she called Mama a